


Part II

by VeronikaLP



Series: You're In a Car With a Beautiful Boy [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I just had to, I'm Sorry, I'm trying to create a timeline here, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:31:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronikaLP/pseuds/VeronikaLP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won't tell him that you love him, but you love him..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part II

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is! The second part of it.  
> I just want to apologize in advance for this. If you ship them as hard as I do, this will hurt and break your heart. Just a little.  
> Inspired, once again, by the great Richard Siken.  
> It is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine and mine only.  
> I obviously don't own them, because if I did, they would've already made their love canon, so, let's keep this tiny piece of fiction between you and I, yeah?  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him _~~because you’re entirely sure of it now~~_ but you do.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, hands intertwined on his lap. You still hate the part when you’re forced to let go once you arrive to your destination, the private smile he sends your way is a silent promise you’ll get to do this later.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy after pictures and playful banter and one of the greatest shows you’ve made yet. His lips taste like adrenaline against yours, like adrenaline and smile and happiness. It makes no sense and yet it does. They taste exotic, interesting, and foreign; all those new things you have come to love. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you _kiss him, kiss him, kiss him_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and when the lack of air in your lungs forces you to pull back, there are eyes on you; blue ones that twinkle with knowledge, green ones that shine with amusement, and brown ones that are warm and accepting. The brown ones also nod, a quiet confirmation that yes, you can have this too, even with everything else in your life, even when you’ve already been given enough; that yes, you can be selfish, so you _take, take, take_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you pull him back towards you by the chin to kiss the blush off his cheeks.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and absolutely refuse to acknowledge the Titanic reference running around in the back of your head. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, radiating body heat fogging up the windows, and when he thrusts up again while biting the juncture of your neck your hand slides down too, leaves a similar mark on the glass for all to see until the fog inside dissipates. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it doesn’t matter if it’s cheesy, if it matches the worst love story ever told _~~but now you understand Rose’s feelings just a little bit better~~_ , you still don’t regret having sex for the first time in your life, in a car with a beautiful boy.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and there are marks for everyone to see, from days you had been too lazy and too unapologetic to care where you were placing them. He feels the same way, unapologetic and unashamed, but he’s far more careful than you, for family reasons he doesn’t fully explain but you absolutely understand. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while your eyes trace his fingers tangled up with yours, the slight but enjoyable pain in your hip reminds you of the bruises left there by them, and idly you wonder if one day he’ll press down hard enough to leave his fingerprints behind and brand your skin his, just like your heart has been.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it turns out your mom was right all along. Everything has an end, good things are not meant to last, and since this thing with him wasn’t just good, it ended even sooner than that. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while he’s still sitting right next to you, he’s not there with you anymore. He’s far off, closed, and distant.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying to pinpoint the exact moment when it all went to Hell and you got ripped apart from the inside, but too many things come to mind, and your last break as a band just happened to be the final straw. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, but he’s no longer next to you.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s all bubbles and happiness, and fluff. He’s got emerald eyes that he puts to good use and dimples that draw a smile out of the sternest face. He’s giddy, he’s crazy, and he’s fun, but he’s not foreign, exotic, quiet, or tan.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and his sparkling blue eyes reveal what’s in his soul; a lot of madness and chaos and pranks, as far as you can see. His voice is unique, but his hands are not big or warm enough when they smear shaving cream all over your right cheek, small blob sneaking to your eye, and still, his laugh as you chase him down the hallway takes you out of your mind for a while.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s so warm and soft and brown eyes, you no longer wonder why you’ve catalogued him as the father of the band. He’s funny, he can have a laugh, and when he pairs up with blue eyes that only means troubles for everyone, but he can also be stern when he wants to be. Right now, the look he’s giving you and the other beautiful boy, the one that’s no longer with you or yours, can only be described as that. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying to explain that you wish you could fix it, but you can’t.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you wish that there were words to explain how you can be close friends with someone and not have them in your bed at night, even if you desperately want to.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and there are no words for the burning feeling in your chest the first time she arrives.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it’s her hand laced with his and not yours; his lips on her ear and not on yours; his sweet whispers directed to her and not to you. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who silently holds your hand as friendly support, and while you’re thankful for the gesture and turn around to give him a smile that says so, his hand isn’t still big or warm enough, and it doesn’t help to subdue the tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re burning from the inside out, ablaze from a love that refuses to let go.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and suddenly here you are, about to witness firsthand how he shows her to the world, claims her to be his love, a love that’s right for society and for the media and for his family. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy that looks at you for a few seconds _~~your treacherous brain dares to make you think there’s regret in them~~_ before climbing out of the car, leaving you to step out last.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and while you’re not allowed to be in love with him, you still are.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you _~~still~~_ love him _~~because it’s no use and won’t change a thing~~_ but you do.


End file.
